Lemon Squeezy

Holiday souvenirs can be a mixed blessing, can't they? Why is it that in spite of all the photos you took, the postcards you bought but never got around to sending, you end up wondering if you shouldn't also buy that 'something' that will sum up the time you had. From a de-cluttering point of view, this is dangerous, especially on the last day, because with that thought uppermost it is all to easy to succumb to the shops and stalls  that you pass on the way to Departure. Then when you get home and settle back into 'Normal Life' these formerly appealing items just have no place or purpose in your lifestyle and the next time you handle them is several years down the track when you hold them hovering over boxes marked  Donate or Dump.
But you can be lucky and end up with something that passes one or other, even both, of William Morris's critieria. It might be beautiful and/or useful and above all bring back memories of the good time you had.
My little bird lemon squeezer is one of my favourite holiday souvenirs.

The holiday was a couple of summers ago when Daughter and I were invited to spend a long weekend in Nyon near Geneva. This invitation came from a very special friend. She just so happens to be my husband's cousin but this is only relevant to our special friendship in that she has known him about 20 years longer than I have and  that  occasionally we get to use family gatherings as opportunities to catch up. She, her husband and her grown up children are simply the most wonderful company. Over those few days we did so many things, ate gorgeous food - much of it at her table- and spent time being together and talking in those ways that phone calls and emails don't allow. We had our last lunch at a restaurant in the countryside and on her advice, chose the fillets of perch. Do you know, I can't recall what the fish was like, I was just so taken with the way the lemon juice was served. We each had a little bird-like jug with half a slice of lemon. So clever; all the juice could be poured onto the fish instead of ending up on the front of my shirt or in the eye of the unfortunate person sitting opposite. Now wherever you are reading this, perhaps these little devices are common-place but where I come from they are impossible to find. Clearly the staff of the restaurant are used to people asking where they got them because they will sell them and so I brought one home.
Every time we have fish or pancakes this little squeezer is on the table and along with lemon juice the occasion is seasoned with thoughts of those days,

•  The magnificent views of the lake and the mountains
• Staggering out of a cafe drunk on nothing more innocuous than shared laughter
• The ferry ride over the lake to the beautiful town of Yvoire and the serenity of The Garden of Five Senses 
• Sitting in St Pierre's Cathedral  'discovering' the music of Cesar Franck in an organ recital. 
• The most amazing fireworks at the Fete de Geneve - (and the longest ever wait to get out of a public car park afterwards)
• Going shopping, meeting her friends for coffee and cakes
• Sitting on the balcony listening to the sound of sheep bells

And so many more - can it really have been only 3 days?
Granted, as souvenirs go, it was inexpensive and even plastic but it is practical and now much used. I'd love you to comment if you know somewhere else that sells them.
If only all my travel souvenirs were as delightful. What are the best and worst among yours?

Easy Peasy - Pea shoots

 I wonder just what will be the food of the moment this year. It's not about food fads, it's about vogue, I think. Remember when Delia Smith put cranberries on every one's shopping lists here in the UK several Christmases ago? Then along came rocket, blue berries and  the renaissance of water cress. Last year it was pea shoots. Supermarkets were stocking little packs of these, all the TV chefs were talking about ways of using these and food magazines had recipes for salads using them. If your only experience of green peas entails taking a pack out of the freezer then you will not know the pleasure of munching fresh peas as you pod them and will have missed the flavour that pea shoots deliver. It is just so easy and cheap to grow them there really is no need to miss out on this.

 It was Alys Fowler on her series The Edible Garden who showed me how easy this would be to do and got me started on this.  As the series is no longer on the BBC's i-Player, and I am not sure if it is in the book, this is how easy it is.

Down in the Woods Today

 With such fine, warm weather and the temperatures we would expect in July, so many people are heading for the coast to spend their Easter break on the beach. Somehow this year seems to be in such a rush to reach its peak like a ten year old anxious to wear high heels and a bra. For me, the beach is for later and I'm sticking to my traditional spring walks in the woods - it's still April for goodness' sake.

 

April Mornings

It's a great time of the year to go away for a couple of days, if for no other reason than things in the garden are changing so quickly and there is so much to see when you get back.
 The cherry blossom is drifting off the branches and scattering over the lawn; one spring feature is over but there are other delights queuing to take its place.

 A  rich mauve auricula which has its place in my 'garden jewelry box' - an old ceramic sink we found in the garden. This plant is tough enough to survive along with some little cyclamen and primroses with the barest minimum of watering and weeding.

 Freckle Face violets which combine two childhood memories.  Violets were the first flower  I asked for garden space to grow and had  success with. The second  memory is dipping an old toothbrush in paint and then rubbing a thumb across it  to make spatter patterns and stencils.

A tub of tulips that this year have managed to evade the jaws of the local population of roe deer. This time last year absolutely all the buds were well on the way to becoming venison. I have planted some chives in the tub now, partly so that their purple flowers will complement the fringing on the Shirley tulips but mainly so that every time I pass, I can crush a few of the leaves in the hope that the onion odour will put the deer off the whole tub. May be it has worked, may be they have just found better fodder in the neighbours' gardens; I'll let you be the judge.

And then proving that the snowdrops and daffodils were merely the opening rounds of the bulb season, the beautiful scilla, hanging on to the dew.

 The fruit blossom is far from over as the crab apple shows.

 The beautiful fondant colours of apple blossom with their wonderful scent.

A garden  with so much to be grateful for in spite of the weeds and the work. Sometimes the real gems of this patch take some seeking out, like the bluebells that appear each year in one of the wilder places, enough to remind me that it is time to gather up my camera and head for the woods.

An Improvised Garden

There are several reasons why I get into recycling and re-purposing. During my childhood, going to the shops was not the accessible, varied option it is in my life now, so re-using things and improvising from the available resources were how we got along. It was more about make do and mend than saving the planet, but then aren't these merely reasons for the same practices?  I often find myself using something simply because I can see it has another use in it before it might be consigned to the bin or else because  I need something and don't want to wait until I can get out to buy it or have it delivered. All makes for a little improvisation especially in the garden.

 We don't have greenhouse, poly-tunnel nor even  a cold frame so most seeds are raised on sunny window sills. But a home office clear out yielded a lot of floppy disk boxes which looked destined for the tip as nobody, not even charity shops or  Jamie's would welcome them.  I decided to see if they would work as seed propagators.   It saved having to cover the pots with polythene bags or cling film and of course,  they are completely re-usable.   It is so much easier to check on the seedlings' progress and add water. Five days after planting seed, the rocket looked like this - could this rapid take-off be why it is called rocket!

 We have fixed a length of guttering  to the back wall of the shed  to make a useful  pot rack.

 

 Sarah Raven  also suggests using guttering to raise seedlings so that they can be transferred to the rows in the vegetable bed with minimal disturbance.

A length of plastic down-pipe with a sock over the lower end, is what we call our 'Patent Pear Picker', helping us to reach the upper branches, dislodge the fruit which then slides down and into the sock. In fact it is used for other fruit; apples and plums as well provided they can fit inside the pipe - otherwise retrieving the fruit unbruised relies pretty heavily on the juggling skills of the operator.

Other re-uses include legs of tights as plant ties, lollipop sticks as plant labels and the usual pressing of yogurt pots into service as plant pots. This month's Country Living magazine suggests using old cabinet drawers as mini-raised beds but I have some old decking planks that I am planning to use to make a not-so-mini raised bed.

And of course in a previous post, Heart's Ease, I mentioned what happens to chipped cups in my garden.

 

Alys Fowler has even more ideas in The Thrifty Gardener  but enough for now! The backlash of all this re-using is that nagging feeling when you review your clutter that at sometime in the future it just 'might come in handy..'

Soup made with Lovage

Isn't it great to see the herbs bursting into leaf after their winter hibernation? The prospect of being able to help myself to handfuls of fresh herbs to add their zing to whatever I want to cook is enough to have me riffling through the recipe file for seasonal family favourites,. One of the best recipes for this time of the year is a potato soup flavoured with lovage. There are still plenty of last season's main crop potatoes around and for this, the best ones are the floury varieties, the kinds like Maris Piper that make good mash. But the main reason for making this recipe is that the lovage is now at least knee high in the herb patch, ( it will be 2 metres or more by autumn, if the wind, rain and weight of its leaves haven't made it flop over) and so ready to be picked.

I would grow lovage with its glossy bright green foliage and its yellow umbellifers for its looks alone. But to have it and not make the most of its flavour would be such a waste. The flavour is rather like celery with a mild curry twist. It's quite powerful so although the plant has an abundance of shiny leaves, you need to use them with some restraint until you get to know its strength. Known on the continent as 'the Maggi herb', a teaspoon or two of chopped lovage adds a savoury depth to sauces, casseroles and soup. And soup was what I made the first time I cooked with lovage. It was such a hit with the whole family that it has become a spring favourite ever since.

One Fine Day

There comes a day each year when you know that spring has taken centre stage. Even though  cold, dark and damp days may still turn up, and they inevitably do, there is a subtle shift in the air and you know winter is over. You slip out of the back door on some momentary errand, to empty the teapot or to pick some fresh rosemary and you get stopped in your tracks. Maybe it is something as obvious as the robin  vocally setting the boundaries of his territory that makes you pause, may be you want the warmth of the sun to linger on your face but it is in that moment your senses are alerted to other subtleties.

 

You realise that in the clouds of cherry blossom overhead, the winged section of nature's insect orchestra is thrumming industriously. In the next breath you are aware that the air is scented with flowers. For me this is a special seasonal marker  which I always note in my journal. I celebrate the occasion by bringing some of the blooms into the house. Sweet box and narcissus are  visually  delicate rather than spectactular  but just a small vase  provides enough fragrance to fill several rooms.

  Should the weather turn and keep me indoors, or the smell of the flowers in the garden be overwhelmed by the freshly turned earth in the field beyond, I will still be enveloped in the promise of spring.